


Premier

by OnlyOneKingLoki



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Don't Read if you haven't seen Thor 2, F/M, Feels, Fluffy Fluffiness From Fluffenhiem, Movie Premier, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, Tom Hiddleston/Reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1745828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneKingLoki/pseuds/OnlyOneKingLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader has been asked to go to the premier of Thor: The Dark World with Tom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Premier

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of their movies, just the character of the reader.

Tom and I had been friends for a few years. We met on the set of _Thor_ , and became fast friends almost instantly. I was just one of the makeup artists, but he noticed me anyway—he talked to me anyway. I had been slow to trust anybody since the…incident in my teen years, so when I felt as if Tom had been in my life the whole time and trusted him as if the same fact was true, I didn’t really know what to do with myself. It wasn’t until about six months after our initial meeting and hours of texting and joking back and forth that I realized that I was thoroughly, head-over-heels in love with him. There was no way that he could consider me as anything more than a friend, though, because we hardly ever saw each other these days.

When Tom called me about two years after our initial meeting and asked me to accompany him to the premier of his newest film, _Thor: The Dark World_ , I agreed. Although, I couldn’t really see why in the world he would want me to be his date, I told him that I’d be honored to accompany him, and he told me that he’d pay for my plane ticket. It would definitely be a long flight; I lived in a small city just outside of Atlanta, Georgia, in the good old U.S. of A. I couldn’t wait to get out. Anywhere would be a nice destination, but London was preferable. Wouldn’t you know it? London was exactly where Tom was offering to bring me. In other words: why the hell wouldn’t I accept Tom’s invitation?

I was eating my words as Tom led me out of the car and into a thick stream of photographers. Flashes went off everywhere I looked nearly blinding me; the only anchor I had was the point where my arm was threaded through Tom’s. Reporters were all shouting questions; some were intended for Tom, others for myself.

“Who’s the girl, Tom?”

“Are you engaged?”

“She doesn’t look like the type you normally date. Have you lowered your standards?”

Tom didn’t respond to any of them, opting to simply lead me through the crowd to the entrance of the theater. I will admit, that last question did piss me off a little, but I let it go because I knew whoever had asked it was right. I had absolutely no business being with Tom in a romantic relationship unless he drastically lowered his standards. I wasn’t graceful; I didn’t have any spectacular attributes; I wasn’t thin, but I wasn’t exactly fat; I wasn’t beautiful, but I wasn’t hideous. I simply…was. I existed, nothing more. I wasn’t exceptional, so I didn’t expect for Tom to think that I was.

When we took our seats in the theater, Tom leaned over to me and whispered in my ear.

“Are you alright after all that?”

“I’m fine, Tom,” I lied, trying to hide how flustered I was about all those prying questions. They had a right to be curious, though, because they did see me leaving with Tom from his own house before we came here. Tom had insisted that he had enough room for me to stay with him and refused to allow me to stay in a hotel. He argued that they were a waste of money for me, and that I should simply stay with him for the duration of my visit. While it was mildly uncomfortable to spend so much time around a man that I loved but would never have a chance with, I did enjoy those quiet little moments I got to share with him that nobody else did. I got to see him reading over scripts, his glasses on and his lips moving silently as his face contorts in unconscious emotional displays. We each knew the others expressions and habits almost more intimately than we knew our own, so it was no surprise when Tom's brows furrowed the slightest bit at my answer.

“You’re not, you liar. Was it the reporters, or was it the overall atmosphere? I know from experience that both can be a bit overwhelming,” he said in an attempt to pinpoint my discomfort. I couldn’t tell him what it really was, though. I couldn’t tell him how I wished that I could’ve given the answer that yes, we were engaged, or yes, we were secretly married so the rest of those fake plastic girls can fuck off. All I did in answer was pat his hand and repeat that I was fine. He looked at me one final time before the lights dimmed and I saw a look of concern.

I brushed that out of my mind for the time being and focused on the task at hand: enjoying Tom’s latest bit of work. I soon found myself laughing quietly at Loki’s witty retorts and totally absorbed in the plot. Then, the unthinkable happened: Loki was stabbed and lay dying on the ground while Thor held him. The scene was too familiar for my taste.

I remembered all too vividly the night my parents were killed. We were walking out of a movie theater, much like the one tonight, when three men with guns came up to us brandishing their weapons. They told my parents that if they handed over their money and valuables, nobody would get hurt. They lied. As soon as my mom’s purse was on the ground at the feet of one of the robbers and my dad’s wallet had hit the ground a few feet away, gunshots rang out. Two guns had fired their bullets and struck their targets, one had not. My parents lay on either side of me bleeding out, dying, all because those men wanted money. The man whose gun had been pointed at me stared blankly at the gun after it misfired, then ran off into the night with his partners in crime. I didn’t know where to go, I didn’t know what to do. One of the other movie-goers had seen what happened and the police and an ambulance were called. It was too little too late. My parents died at the scene in my arms. They were holding hands as they each took their last breaths, their grips never relenting as they faded into unconsciousness for the last time.

Tom felt me shiver in my seat as the memories came rushing back and realized what must have happened. He took my hand in his and squeezed it tightly, bringing it to his lips. He leaned over in his seat just far enough to speak to me once more.

“Everything is alright, darling. You are safe here with me. Tonight is separate, it has no meaning beyond seeing a film, which also has no meaning,” he whispered. “Hold my hand, love, and everything will turn out alright, I promise.”

Tom was right. The film soon ended, and I felt a little better knowing that Loki wasn’t really dead. The memories had still drained me of most of my energy, and I really wasn’t in the most conducive mood for partying. Tom saw that and offered to take me home early.

“You don’t have to, Tom. I don’t want you to miss the celebration! After all, it was your film, for God’s sake. You deserve to be applauded for it,” I said, protesting that I could take a cab back to his place, but Tom refused.

“No, (y/n), it’s my fault that you remembered all those awful things. It was my fault for not recognizing what that scene might do to you after what happened all those years ago,” Tom said guiltily. I turned to face him and placed a hand on his chest.

“Thomas William Hiddleston, don’t you dare say that it was your fault. It most definitely wasn’t, and if you say that it was once more, I shall throw out your kettle. Besides, I’m fine, really,” I said. Tom looked a little horrified at the thought of my getting rid of his tea kettle, but he smiled gently afterwards.

“I’m still taking you home, darling,” he said. “I know that look. It means you’re tired, and I’m not about to torture you with all those reporters again. Come on, let’s go to the car.”

I allowed Tom to lead me out of the building to a spot around back where our car had been brought. We both clambered into the backseat, and I leant my head onto his shoulder as we headed home.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and I felt Tom chuckle lightly.

“You’re welcome, sweet girl,” he replied and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. We held each other the whole way home, and I complimented him on his wonderful job in the new movie. He blushed brightly like he always does at my compliments, and I was tempted to try and force him to see how amazing he truly was. However, I kept my head on straight as we walked into his home and dressed down into sweats and t-shirts before making a pot of tea in the newly-threatened kettle. Tom still managed to make me laugh as we caught up on what each of us had missed about the other’s lives in the interval since we’d last seen each other. It felt like so much longer than it actually had been.

Eventually, both of us started to yawn every few seconds, causing more than a few giggling fits before we both resigned ourselves to the fact that it was time for bed. Tom and I told each other ‘goodnight’ and adjourned to our separate rooms. Tom went to his room, and I went to the guest room right next door. I’d almost completely forgotten that only a couple of hours prior, I’d been reliving my worst memories. Sleep came easily to me, and I was out like a light almost as soon as my head hit the pillows.

\---

I saw a body lying only a few feet from me. It had gone almost still, but the face was obscured. As I moved closer, though, I saw his face as clear as crystal. It was Tom and he was dying. He’d been shot in the chest, just as my parents had all those years ago. I bent down and held him in my arms, feeling like a helpless child once more. On his last breath were the words ‘I love you’, and then he was gone. Fading to ashes in my hand, my Tom was gone. I screamed. He was all I had left and now he was gone, so what could I do but scream? Anguish, loss, love, horror, terror, mourning, all were encumbered in my primal shriek, until—

“(Y/n)! (Y/n), wake up! Wake up, love, it was just a dream. I don’t know what you saw, but it was just a dream,” Tom said shaking me awake. He was alive! It had just been a dream!

“Tom! Oh, God, Tom,” I breathed as he pulled me into his arms. He scooted me over a bit and sat on the bed, pulling me onto his lap and holding onto me for dear life. I clung to him just as tightly, and I buried my face in his chest and wept. Tom made little soothing shushing noises and stroked my hair, rocking us both gently back and forth.

“Shh, it was just a nightmare, love. Nothing can hurt you while I’m here,” he said, and I breathed in the scent of his cologne. It was calming to smell that familiar scent, and I finally stopped sniffling after what seemed like a lifetime. Tom was patient through all of it, and when I’d calmed down significantly, he pulled back the slightest bit and looked into my eyes. He wiped away my tears and kissed my forehead before he asked the question I was dreading. “What did you dream, love? You screamed so loudly that I thought you were being attacked. What scared you so?”

I couldn’t meet Tom’s eyes as I spoke, choosing instead to stare at his white v-neck t-shirt.

“I-I saw somebody I care about, somebody I love. They were the same way that my parents were the night that…the night they were…” I trailed off as my voice broke, but I didn’t cry again. I don’t think it was physically possible for me to cry any more than I already had. I had run dry. Tom placed a finger underneath my chin and tilted my head up until I was looking into his eyes.

“Who was it, darling? Who did you see?” He asked. Concern was etched all over his features as I hesitated. Tom noticed my reluctance, but before he could do anything about it I blurted out the answer.

“You. I saw you, Tom,” I said quietly, and I saw his mouth fall open a bit as he comprehended what I’d said. Tears came to his eyes, and he drew me into his embrace once more.

“Oh, my sweet girl, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine. I’m right here, see?” He pulled back again and held my face in his hands. Tom rested his forehead against mine, and I registered the heat of his breaths as they hit my face. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Tom and I sat in silence for a few moments; my hands had come up and grasped Tom’s forearms without my realizing it. I heard this gentle man sniffle a bit, and pulled back far enough to see that he was weeping. I reached up and wiped away his tears with my thumbs before I could think better of the action.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t asked you to go to that premier, then you wouldn’t have had all those terrible memories dredged up. You wouldn’t have been so frightened, if it weren’t for me and my selfish desire to have you with me. I’m such a terrible friend,” he said, lowering to almost a whisper by the time he finished speaking.

“No, you’re not, Tom! You’re so amazing! I wish you could see that for once. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault. Every so often, something like this will happen. I’ll see something that makes me remember, and I’ll have horrible nightmares. It’s not your fault; it was bound to happen eventually,” I said, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. “You’ve done nothing wrong, you wonderful man.”

I leaned in and hugged Tom tightly once more. He broke the embrace suddenly with a gasp, holding me at arm’s length.

“What?” I asked at his astonished expression. Tom looked as if I’d just slapped him, or something.

“You s-said that in the nightmare you saw somebody,” Tom said, and I nodded in confirmation. He saw my confusion and laughed a little bit. “You don’t understand. You said that you saw somebody that you…loved.”

_Oh, shit! I didn’t mean to say that! He wasn’t supposed to know that!_

Tom looked at me with an expression that I didn’t quite recognize.

“Do you mean to tell me that you…love me?” Tom asked, and I blushed a bright crimson. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so I just nodded and looked away. I didn’t want to see his disgusted expression as he—

Kissed me? Wait, Tom was kissing me! I started to kiss him back as soon as I realized what was happening, and he moaned into my mouth. This was not at all how I saw tonight progressing when I put on my dress earlier. Nonetheless, Tom was now pressing his lips to mine, cradling my head in his large hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Tom asked when we broke apart for air, and I was stunned beyond belief.

“I-I didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell of you actually reciprocating,” I said, and it was true. Tom laughed sadly at my admission.

“You spectacular, perfect, silly, _silly_ woman. I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you. I know you think I could only ever love a model or an actress, but that’s simply not true,” he said, leaning in and kissing my forehead. “I’ve never cared for anyone— _loved_ anyone—like I love you. There is nobody like you, and I couldn’t live without you.”

“Oh, Tom,” I breathed. “I love you, too.”

We kissed quietly for another moment or two before we almost fell asleep in each other’s arms. Tom made to leave, but I grabbed his hand a little shyly.

“W-Would you stay here with me tonight?” I blushed at how any other man would’ve taken that, but Tom knew how incredibly shy I was about sex, so I knew he wouldn’t mistake my words for anything but those of a person afraid of the dark. Tom smiled and climbed into bed behind me, wrapping me in his warm, strong arms.

“Of course, I’ll stay, love,” he said, and he kissed the top of my head. “Sleep and find peace in my arms.”


End file.
